


Coffee Firma Ltd.

by Mitchievousness



Category: Stellar Firma (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon-Typical Moisturizer, Canon-Typical Trexnanigans (Trexel Shenanigans), Gen, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, everyone's on earth and they work in a coffee shop!, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24338443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitchievousness/pseuds/Mitchievousness
Summary: Coffee Firma Ltd. offers a new way for humanity to enjoy hot and cold drinks with it's advanced techniques of brewery and beverage-making. These delectable concoctions are made with the utmost care by our wonderful baristas and are designed to acquaint customers with high-grade fabrications of luxury in a cup. We welcome you, beloved customer, to sit back and enjoy our varied selection of treats!----aka the Mandatory Stellar Firma Coffee Shop AU!
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	Coffee Firma Ltd.

**Author's Note:**

> This tag is almost as void as space and I will take up the mantle in filling it with the fanfics it deserves. Unfortunately, I am not a writer and I'm just posting stuff as I go so please don't expect any regular updates or chapter lengths (this has zero chances of consistency lmao)
> 
> Everyone here is human and Definitely Not Straight, as it should be. Also the events that happen here don't really follow the podcast timeline but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Warnings for physical boundaries (touching) not being respected, and the excessive use of commas, italics, and capitalization to emphasize shouting.

David arrived at the café a full 30 minutes before his actual shift started.

It was review day and he wanted to show Hartro that he really was “passionate about his work” and getting along with everyone just fine and that there were definitely no grounds to fire him.

Also he’s pretty sure Trexel’s going to be an hour late as usual.

David sighs and ties on the sleek black apron with the Coffee Firma logo tastefully emblazoned on the upper right breast area.

He still doesn’t understand why Trexel hasn’t been fired yet, much less why he’s the one mentoring David when Trexel doesn’t even know how to work the coffee machine. He’s always rude to customers and is even banned from going to: 1.) the supply closet when Hartro found him drunkenly hitting on a broom, and 2.) the storage room when David saw him crying and drunkenly making out with a dead fish.

David still shudders at the memory.

Trexel once said his parents are one of the biggest stockholders of the company or something but, like all the other times he brings up his parents, it quickly devolved into an incomprehensible spiral rant about his sad and extremely neglected childhood. David actually used to feel bad for him but any sympathy he has for Trexel quickly evaporates the moment Trexel opens his mouth again and threatens to report David for the mistakes _he_ made. Still, David has been secretly putting therapy pamphlets in one of Trexel’s eight pockets in the hopes he might actually see one.

Speaking of therapy, the meditation and breathing exercises Imogen suggested were really helping him stay focused and not yell at Trexel during work hours. He does some right now to center himself. David hadn’t told anyone when he applied for the job about his relationship to the closest thing to a CEO the cafe had and was probably higher up than the Board of Directors, nor did he mention that she was the closest thing to a mother figure he really had.

He’s interrupted from his musings when Harry enters the break room with a polite smile. It was probably the end of his shift already.

His and Harry’s shifts don’t interlap with one another at all so officially they only met twice before. The first time was during a team building event Hartro forced everyone to go to and the second one was when Trexel accused him of changing the drinks that he made. Granted, David really _was_ changing the drinks Trexel made and Harry was the one who saw and reported it but everyone agreed that it was better this way and they didn’t want to get a lawsuit filed against Coffee Firma because Trexel had poisoned a customer.

“Hey, David. How’ve you been?”

Oh god, small talk.

“Oh you know, the usual. Review day today so a bit nervous I guess?”

Harry looks at him sympathetically and claps a hand on his shoulder. David tries to hide the flinch at the contact; the one thing worse than small talk is uninitiated physical contact. Fortunately, Harry doesn’t seem to notice and goes to his own locker, giving David his much needed space back.

“So, you filling in for Trexel again?” Harry asks as he unties his own apron.

“Yeah,” David nods sadly. Everyone knows “filling in for Trexel” is basically code for “ _Trexel won’t show up at his proper shift schedule and the board can’t fire him but they_ can _fire anyone who’s on the shift with him so you better pick up the slack, buster.”_

To avoid any more uncomfortable small talk, David quickly excuses himself and goes to the main café to see what he can help with.

For half an hour, he sweeps the floor and cleans the tables as the counter was already manned by the two scary co-workers he doesn’t know the names of but evidently knows David’s and are far too invested in him to be comfortable. Also, he’s pretty sure they rank higher than Hartro so what they’re doing behind the cash register is beyond him.

When his actual shift starts and the two nefarious co-workers leave with cryptic mentions of their Big Plans, he spends it idly writing pieces of poetry on table napkins and taking the orders of a few customers. He’s lucky that his shift normally starts at 2 pm and after the lunch rush otherwise he doesn’t how he would manage the café all on his own.

At 3:18, Trexel stumbles into the shop and disrupts the peaceful atmosphere by loudly announcing his presence to everyone in the room. A few customers glare at him over their drinks while the regulars who were forced to get accustomed to this disruption quickly puts in their earphones and starts blasting some music to ignore whatever excuse Trexel has for the day.

David really wishes he could do the same.

Instead, he’s forced to watch as Trexel staggers behind the counter, muttering to himself, and then heavily leans near the display case (David is only slightly worried about the durability of the case, having been subjected to this purpose several times before). Surprisingly, he doesn’t smell like alcohol and hang-over but rather more… fruity? What?

“David, David please,” Trexel begs, “David help me.” He reaches out a slimy hand towards him and David instinctively steps back. David notes the shiny sheen on Trexel’s arms and face and gets more confused and annoyed.

“Trexel, what?” David tries to keep his voice calm while also expressing the "proper amount of concern" for a coworker.

“I haven’t let out any moisture from my body in about sixteen hours and it _hurts,_ David. It huuurrttsss,” Trexel pathetically slouches further on the case.

David can only assume that means Trexel hadn’t peed or sweated since yesterday probably because he hasn’t drank anything that isn’t alcohol and also managed to close up his pores somehow? David sighs. 

“Whatever. Here, drink some water, maybe thi-“

“ Water!? _WHY?”_ Trexel cuts him off with a loud shout and an accusatory finger pointed his way. “You think my throat is dry, huh David? Do you think I have a scaly windpipe and esophagus?! You think you’re better than me _, TREXEL GEISTMAN,_ because of your slick and thoroughly wetted pharynx!?! Well more fool you! I’ve been drinking moisturizer so my throat is more moisturized than yours! I don’t need your stupid water, David! It’s stupid! And dumb! And—and I’m definitely better than you so, ha!”

David just stands there, fully exasperated and ready to splash the glass of water in Trexel’s face. 

“Ingestion of moisturizer may cause a mild laxative effect, but is not toxic enough to fully kill a person.” A calm and factual voice chimes in. David turns to the nearest corner of the café and sees Imogen seated in her reserved table and with a laptop and stacks of papers David assumes are about the café. David didn’t notice her come in but she probably entered using the back door while he was distracted with Trexel’s moisturizer nonsense.

David nods at her, feeling slightly better at the thought of Trexel experiencing painful amounts of bowel movement later on. “Thank you, Imogen. I’ll bring over your usual in a moment.”

Trexel continues to talk while David steps around him to prepare Imogen’s drink. He lets Trexel’s voice fade into background noise as he adds a dash of cinnamon to a mug of long macchiato and delivers it to Imogen’s table. She’s provided a space for him to place the drink amongst the field of paperwork but doesn’t look up when he approaches. That’s fine. The quiet, satisfied hum behind him as he goes back to the counter is enough for him. 

Apparently, in the time span between David ignoring Trexel’s ramblings and David delivering Imogen her drink, Trexel had put on not one, but _three_ aprons, with the outermost apron clearly being two sizes too small for his frame. Where did he even get those aprons? Did he break into the other’s lockers again?!

“David, I’ve got it. I’ve got brilliant idea! Well, obviously all my ideas are brilliant because I’M TREXEL GEISTMAN THE GREAT, Coffee Firma’s best barista and the most brilliant idea maker of all time!”

David pinches the bridge of his nose and knows he’s going to immediately regret asking, “What is it, Trexel?”

“You should squeeze the moisturizer out of me!”

“What?! No!” David splutters in surprise, “Not only is that utterly disgusting, we are _working_. Well, okay maybe I am. But still! I am not being paid to deal with your daily shenanigans!”

Unfortunately, whenever Trexel Geistman gets an idea in his brain, he won’t let it go until he achieves it or is properly distracted by another more stupid idea. At this moment, Trexel is slowly approaching David with a manic look in his eye that David is far too familiar with.

“David." Trexel tuts, "David, David, David.”

And without finishing that line of thought, Trexel lunges at him and David braces himself for the Very Uncomfortable physical contact he’s about to suffer.

David lets out a short scream and drops any pretense of professionalism as Trexel starts grabbing his arm and clings to it like a koala. He manages to put both of his feet above the floor, one in David’s apron pocket while the other is wrapped around his back. His arms are slimy and he keeps almost slipping off of David’s arm but manages to scramble back up.

“I won’t let go until every drop of moisturizer is squeezed out of my skin, David!” Trexels shouts, fully hysteric on top of him. 

“Get off of me, Trexel!”

“Squeeze me, _squeeze me,_ David! I need you to squeeze me with your big meaty arms! Squeeze me like one of your French girls!”

“What- no! Get off, Trexel! I SAID GET OFF!”

“Choke me Daddy!”

David glares at the cut off snort he hears from one of the costumers. Screw decency, what _exactly_ was so funny about your coworker trying to literally climb on you to make you squeeze the moisturizer out of his scrawny arms while loudly screaming sexual innuendos?

Distantly, he hears Imogen mutter something about excessive unprofessional touching and security alerts.

Somehow, David manages to wrangle Trexel off of him through sheer force and incomprehensible high-pitched noises alone.

“I won’t drop it until you squeeze me David,” Trexel says resolutely and David is already near the end of his rope. He hasn’t even been here for thirty minutes and David would much rather squeeze the living daylights out of him instead.

“Okay, fine! If that’ll make you _stop touching me!”_

Trexel finally stands back and smiles smugly to himself. David glares even harder as he reaches below the cashier counter and puts on a pair of disposable gloves. If he really was going to do this, he sure as hell won’t let any bit of moisturizer touch his skin.

Just when he’s about to touch Trexel, arms outstretched and ready to squeeze (whether the moisturizer or the daylights out of him, he can’t be sure), the coffee shop doors open once again and the familiar clacking of heels reaches his ears.

“Hello boys!” comes the cheery voice of Hartro Piltz, “ready for review day?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very hard to write into words those sounds David and Trexel make when they're fighting. Also David doesn't like being touched unless he's the one initiating it but Trexel doesn't (can't?) respect his boundaries. Poor boy :(
> 
> Also I didnt want to go over 2k words for the first chapter so ya'll get a cliffhanger instead! Bet you can't guess what's gonna happen next :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly not sure where I'm going with this fic but I recently finished re-listening to the podcast in preparations for the s2 finale and i'm sad at how quiet the fandom is on tumblr
> 
> kudos are hugs and comments peer pressure me into updating sooner, probably!


End file.
